


You Set Off a Dream With Me (Never Enough)

by donovanpsn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: :(, Altean Lance (Voltron), Emotional Hurt, F/F, Hurt No Comfort, I'm pretty bad with summaries but I promise it's good please read it, Lance and Allura are siblings, Langst, M/M, Sadness, Short n sad, Unrequited Love, Wedding Bells are Ringing, lance cries, no beta I will sink with my ship, so much langst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 01:16:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13283856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donovanpsn/pseuds/donovanpsn
Summary: These hands could hold the world but it'll never be enough.





	You Set Off a Dream With Me (Never Enough)

**Author's Note:**

> I watched The Greatest Showman and this happened. "Never Enough" is my favorite song from the soundtrack, for sure. It's just so... Langst. It hurts, and I'm probably a masochist because I probably listened to it upwards of 20 times while writing this. 
> 
> Also, there's a beautiful piece of fanart that I found on Tumblr that I think could be an excellent image to fit into this AU. You can find it [here](https://kirlikestodraw.tumblr.com/post/168637612733/at-least-my-dear-elizas-his-wife-at-least-i-keep) . Make sure to check out her other art, too! It's all so beautiful and I can't handle how much I adore it.

 

     Lance keeps his things close to him at all times. After waking up cold and miserable and 10,000 years away from his _home_ , with everything he once owned ruined and withered over time or destroyed along with Altea, he began to truly learn the importance of keeping what matters as close as possible. Perhaps this is why his most prized possession – a slightly crinkled, well-kept photograph that means the _world_ to him – is _always_ within reach. Whether stuffed into a pocket or tucked into his armor’s breastplate, right over his heart, it is always there with him to remind him of the most important part of his fight – the _reason_ he fights.

He held it now, the pads of his thumbs trembling as he smoothed out the frayed edges. The glossy paper was a little ruined from the tears that had spilled onto it in the recent weeks, but the image beneath the damage was still distinct. Beautiful. He knelt down in front of his nightstand and smoothed out the final wrinkle, leaving the image crisp and clear as the day it was printed. His heart ached at the memory, but it’s one he would cherish until the day he dies (which may not be very far down the line, if he continues to deteriorate as quickly as he has been in the past few months).

     The picture is just as breathtaking as it is every time he looks at it. Just looking at it fills him with joy as it sucks the life out of him. It’s like a drug, almost. He’s addicted to the feeling he gets when he remembers the exact moment the picture was taken, but being dragged back to his current hellish reality mere minutes later always leaves him feeling worse than he had before.

     The photograph was taken relatively early on in their adventure. It had been nearly a year (and that’s a rough estimate, since he’s still not entirely sure how time works in space) into their journey, then. During the lull between their first pivotal battles against Zarkon, when they were trying to boost morale within the Voltron Coalition with a tour of flashy, extravagant performances all across the universe. This picture had been taken during one of the earlier ones, before Keith had left them and after Coran’s ideas started to grow more and more grandeur.

     Looking at it now thrust him back in time – back to when he really, truly thought he could one day, actually have the happiness he’s always desired. He could feel the shine of a thousand spotlights on his skin, illuminating the stage and forcing attention to the pair crumpled dead center. Coran had been especially eager with this scene. “It’ll show the universe that the Voltron paladins are more than just soldiers – you’re a family. You truly care about one another.” He had said. Lance had foolishly, selfishly supported the man’s ridiculous idea.

     They had recreated his and Keith’s bonding moment, but with pomp and extravagance that hadn’t been present when it actually happened. The stage was decorated with brilliant, shining towers that glittered like gold under the bright spotlights, and twinkling stars lit up the areas of the stage left in shadow. Beneath all of this lay Keith and Lance, dwarfed by the towers that had been painted to look much larger than they really were. Keith had been cradling Lance’s head in his lap when the picture was taken by a reporter in the front row, and he could clearly see the emotions that had been flaring between the two of them on stage – at least, Lance had fooled himself into believing he could. He had had his eyes focused on Keith’s, one hand clasped firmly around the red paladin’s armored shoulder and the other limp at his side. He was supposed to be falling in and out of consciousness, after all. If he remembers correctly, he had just finished telling Keith that they do make a good team, after all, when the reporter immortalized this moment. Keith’s wide eyes were almost comical.

     He startled when a droplet of water splashed against his prized possession and he looked all around for the source before realizing it had fallen from _him_. It really shouldn’t surprise him that he’s crying again, considering how much he’s been doing it lately, but it catches him off-guard every time. He swiped the splattered tear away before it could damage his picture and pulled the folded handkerchief from his jacket to dab away under his eyes. He _cannot_ afford to look like he had been crying, today. The thought of someone noticing… The thought of _Allura_ noticing, asking him what had made her darling brother cry… He doesn’t think he has it in him to tell her the truth. It would crush her. It would ruin everything and he knows he wouldn’t be able to handle everyone’s concern on top of everything that’s happening, today. It’s supposed to be a _happy_ occasion, after all.

     Once he managed to reign in his emotions and gain some control over himself, he re-folded his glittering, blue handkerchief the way Coran had taught him and tucked it into his suit jacket with extreme care. He collected the photograph and moved over to his vanity. He clipped it on to the corner of his mirror and gingerly eased himself into his seat, careful not to wrinkle his meticulously ironed suit. He swept up one of the brushes he had purchased at the space mall they had received Kaltenecker from, swirled it around in a jar of pale powder, and dabbed it under his eyes in an effort to erase the lines his tears had cut through the makeup Allura had insisted he wear for the occasion. Thankfully, the powder didn’t dull the glow of his blue Altean markings - they already looked far more washed out than usual due to his steadily plummeting mood. He sat back to examine himself with a critical eye and eventually decided that he couldn’t look much better, considering the state of his emotions, so this would have to do. A plastered-on smile for the cameras will be his best friend, today. Sorry, Hunk.

     He stood on shaky legs and tugged his photograph free from its mount. He allowed himself to bask in the image for a few ticks longer, but he knows he’s already pushing it. He can’t be late to his sister’s wedding – The Royal Wedding for the Ages, as it’s become known as. Nothing quite as spectacular as the princess of a near-extinct race marrying a hybrid that’s half- _Galra_ – and in the fabled Castle of Lions, no less. It really will be an event to be written into the history of the universe.

     Lance made his way to his bedroom door, but he paused just before opening it. He cradled his prized possession in his hands, and it felt like he was holding his entire world, but it will never be enough. With a heavy heart, he brought his photograph up to his face and pressed his trembling lips against the glossy paper before he tucked it away inside his jacket. Finally, he swung his door open with the best smile he could manage painted across his face to counter the bruises under his eyes and the distinct slump to his shoulders. Today may be a happy day, but there’s only so much you can do when you have to stand and watch the love of your life marry your sister.

_“These hands could hold the world but it’ll never be enough.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for that.
> 
> As usually, you can find me on tumblr [here](https://loverboy-lancemcclain.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated!


End file.
